


In Between Being Young and Being Right (You Were My Versailles at Night)

by midnightwhistleberries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Quidditch, Slow Build, Teacher Louis, new romance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 19:36:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3990187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightwhistleberries/pseuds/midnightwhistleberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is in his seventh year at Hogwarts, and nothing stands between him and the end of schooling forever besides goofing off and his N.E.W.T.S.<br/>He hadn't bargained for a classroom full of fifth years suddenly becoming his responsibility. Or a stalker in the form of a precocious amphibian. Or a sudden Quidditch line up change that sees him as seeker.<br/>Or Harry Styles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Between Being Young and Being Right (You Were My Versailles at Night)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissBijou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissBijou/gifts).



> Prompt: In the spring love is always in the air at Hogwarts. Think conjured flowers, picnics by the lake, and a Quidditch rivalry between Gryffindor beater Harry Styles and Slytherin seeker Louis Tomlinson. Harry might be too infatuated with the Slytherin for his own good, and no one can *prove* that he purposefully let Louis catch the Snitch.
> 
> So I definitely strayed a little (more than a little...) but I hope you enjoy the bizarre places this fic took me! 
> 
> As always thank you to C for being the champion of all betas. Title borrowed from Fall Out Boy. Thanks Pete.

“Lou, you’ve got a letter today!”

Louis sighed to himself that he could hear his sister from all the way in the attic, but forced himself to move from his very comfortable bed to see what Daisy was hollering about. Ever since the twins had turned five, the two had deemed themselves the Tomlinson family mail carriers, and held up their duties very diligently. Usually Phoebe took care of his Mum’s and step dad’s mail and Daisy rounded the ranks of his siblings, as they got correspondences much less frequently. There was only one thing he would even anticipate to recieve during his summer hols, and he couldn’t say he knew quite what to expect once he read it, so he just got up to get it over with.

He caught Daisy at the bottom of the pull down staircase that lead to his room and swung her up into his arms, grabbing for the small pile of mail as she squealed and tried to keep it out of his reach. She finally gave in and sanctimoniously handed over the thick parchment envelope holding what was essentially his future.

Dear Mr. Tomlinson,

On behalf of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, I would like to congratulate you with your completion of the Ordinary Wizarding Levels. This is an exciting time for rising sixth years such as yourself, and we wish you well with your results. Enclosed you will find the results of your examinations. Should you have any questions or concerns, simply send them back with the owl with which this communique arrived. He will know what to do.

All the best,

Griselda Marchbanks

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Passing Grades

| 

Failing Grades  
  
---|---  
  
_(O) Outstanding_

| 

_(P) Poor_  
  
_(E) Exceeds Expectations_

| 

_(D) Dreadful_  
  
_Acceptable_

| 

_(T) Troll_  
  
_Louis William Tomlinson has achieved:_

Arithmancy

| 

E  
  
---|---  
  
Astronomy

| 

A  
  
Care of Magical Creatures

| 

A  
  
Charms

| 

E  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts

| 

E  
  
History of Magic

| 

D  
  
Muggle Studies

| 

O  
  
Potions

| 

P  
  
Transfiguation

| 

O  
  
 

***

“Tomlinson, a word.”

In his almost seven years at Hogwarts, Louis had never once gotten good news when Professor McGonagall asked him for a word. Besides, it was his first class back after his last winter holidays – there was no way he’d already done something to get into trouble. He was no stranger to her detentions – he’d untransfigured more failed first years’ spells than he could count – but Louis was honestly innocent this time. Besides, he’d just turned seventeen. He was an adult who could do any magic he wanted, thank you.

As such, he entered her office huffily, making a demonstration of sitting down in front of her desk. It would not surprise Louis to learn that Professor McGonagall had learned his schedule in order to orchestrate this ambush. She sat behind her desk and began.

“You, possibly more than many, are well aware that this school year is past its halfway point. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone quite so excited to leave Hogwarts as yourself. How are your final courses going, Louis?”

He shrugged. “Alright, I suppose. Things are picking up, but nothing I can’t handle professor,” he responded.

Professor McGonagall looked to be pondering something. “And how about free time?”

Louis was a little more confused by that, but regardless, answered, “I’ve got all my lessons in the mornings, so there’s been quite a bit.”

“My fifth years are having a hard time with some of the concepts they’ll need for examinations this year,” McGonagall said with no transition. “Frankly, all of the concepts. They’re rather dreadful.” She quirks a smile at Louis while he laughs. “If they don’t improve rapidly, I foresee a lot of Troll O.W.L. results, I’m afraid. As such, I’ve offered them an extra practice class, attendance optional. Though, I should hope many of them will make use of it- I daresay they rather need it. Anyway, the point, Mr. Tomlinson, is that I’ve told them you are going to teach it.”

It took Louis a few moments to process what she’d said, but once it hit him he was not at all pleased.

“Professor McGonagall, with all due respect, are you joking? I’ve got loads more important things to do than babysit a bunch of fifth years who can’t tell vanishment from conjuration,” Louis said incredulously.

“You’ve got every afternoon off, Mr. Tomlinson. I’m not too concerned about you accomplishing your many important tasks in a timely manner.”

She was ruthless. “But Professor, I’m about to graduate! Don’t I deserve to enjoy my last few months at Hogwarts?” Louis pleaded in a last ditch effort.

McGonagall actually did look quite sympathetic at that. “While I understand your plight, Louis, I’m afraid to say I’m doing this for your benefit as well.”

Louis scoffed. “What possible good could I get out of this, Professor?”

“While I may know you’re one of the best transfiguration students I’ve ever taught,” McGonagall began, holding up one finger as she saw him begin to smirk, and continued, “I’m afraid some members of the Department of Magical Education aren’t so sure. I know you received an Outstanding on your transfiguration O.W.L., Louis, but I’ve been made aware that that was quite contested.”

He just barely contained the immediate “What the fuck?” from being said out loud. That mark had more merit to it than any other in his life, and he had no idea how it could’ve been questioned at all.

It was obvious that McGonagall could read his sentiments on his face, however, as she proceeded, “Your practical examination score was perfect, Louis. I didn’t believe it myself when I heard, but it’s true – your execution was flawless. The written portion however… was lacking. The Wizarding Examinations Authority almost didn’t award you the mark, but your raw talent got you an O. You’re at the N.E.W.T. level now, Louis, and know that such a kindness will not happen again. I know as well as anyone that you’ve never approached an exam seriously in your life, least of all my own, and despite how good you are, I don’t know that it will suffice.”

Louis felt like he’d been hit with the slug eating curse. “What are you saying, Professor?”

“I’m telling you, Tomlinson, that I’ve bargained for you a deal. If you teach this course for the O.W.L. students, you won’t be required to take the written portion of your N.E.W.T. How’s that for something to get out of it?”

***

What McGonagall forgot to mention was that in order to make it to this...remedial Transfiguration monstrosity, he would have to power walk, at least, to make it in time from his Charms class all the way across the castle. Free afternoons his arse, she’d scheduled it right after his class. Be that as it may, Louis was now not only disgruntled, he was out of breath, which was not a good look for him. He walked into the classroom in a huff, slinging his book bag onto the desk at the front of the room and paused to take a breath. The room was absolutely silent- for fuck's sake, couldn't they give him a moment to stop sweating and chat amongst themselves? Louis could already tell the journey from his class to here would be the extent of his exercise until graduation. Plus, if they were already at attention, that meant they were taking this seriously. Shit.

He looked up at the students, finally, and saw a group of about forty, mixed between the four houses. It was a bit more than he expected, for a group characterized by their inability to perform simple transfiguration by their fifth year. He might be a little biased.

"Alright, children," he said, as though he wasn’t in their position not two years prior, near wetting himself at the thought of O.W.L.s. "You're here because you're rubbish at transfiguration. I'm here because I'm amazing. If you trust Professor McGonagall, you'll trust that I know what I'm doing, and make my life a lot easier. Alright?"

There were murmurs of assent among them, some sounding more irritated than others, and one tall boy sitting a row from the back whose eyebrows read truly scandalized. His friend, a dopey looking blonde, was using his own wand to scratch his back. Louis was already dreading the two of them.

He brought his attention back to actually beginning the lesson, and decided to go easy on them for the first class. "Now, this spell is something you lot should already be familiar with, but I just want to make sure we've all got a handle on basic principles."

He waved his wand in a sweeping motion and at once, the door to the prep room flew open, a flock of ravens gracefully flying in, each landing in front of a student. He let the students believe it was an act of magic, but in all honesty, he'd had his mate Zayn train the birds to do that so he could make a grand statement and put the fifth years in awe of him. He'd just opened the door. Louis was shit at Care of Magical Creatures.

The class settled, and he told them what spell they would be doing - Vera Verto. Most of them looked pretty comfortable with their task, but Tall and Scandalised looked horrified and the blonde was... what was he doing? Was he trying to pluck a feather from the raven? Merlin's bloody ballsack, he can't deal with this.

Louis began consulting with the students one on one as far from the wonder duo as he could manage. He ignored the various squawks and questionable noises that came from their part of the room, and tried to be as civil as possible with the other students, and a good bit of them seemed to be pretty bearable. He was almost in good spirits- and then he reached the dreaded boys in the back of the room. Tall and Blonde’s birds were merged together. Bird. They mutated a bird. Louis just turned and left.

With a flippant flick of his wand over his shoulder, Louis continued to storm out of the classroom. He didn’t see the results of his work, but rather heard the tall one’s yelp when all of a sudden his feisty, blonde companion and he were stuck together, arm in arm, one could say, as a result of his sticking charm. _Epoximise_ was reversible, McGonagall would figure it out. Wouldn’t be too happy with him, for sure, but sometimes Louis’ definition of necessary and hers didn’t quite match. Never quite matched. Regardless, he’d asserted his dominance over the bloody fifth years that would be causing him hell all year, and no mark was more important than that.

***

The first time he heard it was when he was rushing, late again to Muggle Studies. He was just about to catch the staircase that would end up redirecting him to the dungeons if he didn’t get to it by 11:26, when he heard a croak.

He doubled back and looked around, not sure what it was he was looking _for_ until he heard another croak; this time, it sounded like 'Lou.' He was very sure he'd gone mental until he deigned to look slightly down, and saw a fat toad looking dolefully back up at him, almost as if it was a pain for it to be there.

"Lou," it croaked again.

"Toad?" Louis responded, feeling more foolish as soon as the word left his mouth.

The toad - what was that, did it just heave a sigh? Sighed, and began -

_"I'll be as honest as you let me_

_I miss your early morning company_

_If you get me_

_You are my favorite what if_

_You are my best I'll never know"_

As soon as it finished its verse it seemed to be finished with its duties as well, and promptly hopped along.

Louis was left stupefied, without a staircase, and late to class.

***

"Lots, I'm telling you, I have no idea what it was but the song was really good!"

Lottie was laughing her arse off as Louis regaled his sister with the story of his encounter that morning. He was surrounded by his siblings at school - Fizzy was just a first year, what kind of brother would he be if he didn't let her sit with him? - and his and Lottie's mates from the Slytherin Quidditch team. He's an honorary member in that he taught Lottie everything she knows, though she'd never admit to it, and his best mate Zayn is a beater. Now, the two of them had turned against him, the bastards, and seemed to be much more amused than curious. Louis _was_ curious; dreadfully, painfully so. (Since when could bloody toads sing? How should he know, he's not taking Care of Magical Creatures at the N.E.W.T. level.)

"Aren't you lot the least bit wondering how this is possible?" he asked indignantly.

"To be honest, Lou," Zayn responded, "the why is a lot more hilarious to me."

Lottie nods emphatically, mouth full of biscuit. "Right?" she exclaimed through her food. "Someone _knew_ you were going to be at that stairs, it was a plant!"

Fizzy, to Louis' left, tugs at his sleeve. "Maybe it means somebody likes you, Louis. Did you listen to the words? Were they nice?"

Sometimes, Louis thought, eleven year olds needed to be given more credit when was due. "You might be onto something with that, Fiz." He tried to recall any lyrics, but he only had a vague memory of the melody. He'd pay more attention next time. If there was a next time. He strangely hoped there would be.

***

“So you’re basically a beater, only the stick is long and metal, and the ball is way smaller – “

Louis, who had been walking around the classroom observing as the students practiced their Switching Spells, stopped in his tracks at the snippet of conversation he heard. Of course, his two problem students were not in the least paying attention to the day’s lesson, and were instead discussing this rubbish. What in the hell was Blondie on about? He casually stopped at the table next to theirs, pretending to observe Ashton Irwin, a boy he knew through Lottie from the Slytherin Quidditch team. Ashton was one of the better ones, honestly, but he pretended to correct his wrist positioning while eavesdropping on Curly and Blonde.

“ – and you have to , like, get it into a little hole! Imagine, me putting the bloody bludger into the quaffle hoop. Mad. I don’t know how the Muggles come up with this shite,” he finished, impassioned.

Golf. The blonde one had somehow discovered golf.

Poor Ashton was trying to get Louis’ attention, asking if his wand hand should be quirked at a ninety degree angle or more of a forty-five, but Louis found himself distracted. Curly was laughing, and his smile was…something. He shook himself out of mesmerization and turned back to Ashton’s pressing wrist queries, but something in him had shifted.

He might end up liking the two of them after all.

***

The next run in with the musical toad happened a couple of days after the following transfiguration lesson. The whole ordeal had become more bearable once McGonagall had proper chewed him out for the stunt he had pulled at his first class, but he hadn’t gotten any real punishment, so he figured it turned out more towards okay than anything. He very actively tried to go into the each class with more enthusiasm, and wasn’t…outwardly mean to any of them. The running commentary in his mind was another issue entirely.

He’d even learned that his two _favorite_ students were named Harry and Niall. He’d needed to fill out their names on the incident report he’d filed after the rabbit they’d transformed with Lapifors, a fucking year three spell – year three! – had attacked another student. Neither one of them would cop to willfully making the rabbit have a go at Nick Grimshaw, nor had there been a professor present, so he’d had to do the fucking paperwork. Louis was only seventeen and these kids were making him go grey.

It was after that nightmare of a lesson that he and the toad crossed paths. He wouldn’t have even noticed had it not jumped directly onto his shoulder as he was headed back to the Slytherin dungeons. He nearly toppled over the bannister alongside the staircase he was taking and bucked the toad off of his person, but it seemed remarkably unfazed by it all and simply landed on the railing at eye level. The animal gave him a look of pure judgment and opened its mouth.

 _And though I know, I’ve already blown more chances_  
_Than anyone should ever get_  
_All I’m asking you is don’t write me off, just yet_

What? Louis was baffled. This one was even more confusing than the last, what was he supposed to make of this? Why did it sound like an apology? Who in the hell is sending this toad after him? While his mind was racing, he failed to notice that the toad had not waited for him to finish his contemplation and had jumped into the hands of one curly haired boy, who quickly hurried away.

***

Louis’ seventh year at Hogwarts continued on in a haze of his course work, transfiguration lessons, and being harangued by a small amphibian. He never recognized any of the songs, although he had to admit there was yet to be a selection he hadn’t enjoyed. Whoever was sending their toad after him had good taste, and was obviously one hell of a charms master. He’d originally harbored the thought of trying to figure out who the person behind it was, but was too occupied trying to pass his N.E.W.T.s and avoiding killing Harry Styles and Niall Horan to put too much thought into it.

Most of his students were getting better, to be honest. He almost liked them. However, when he brought up one of their accomplishments over meals in the Great Hall, Zayn always shit on him, so he kept his prideful gloating to himself most of the time. Whenever he ran into McGonagall though, he always made sure to let her know how it was going. The woman was under more stress than any witch or wizard ever deserved, he might as well bring whatever small amount of happiness he could into her life.

His Muggle Studies class had been absolutely wicked, too. They’d just finished with the intricacies of Muggle sport – why have so many different games when you could just play Quidditch? Honestly – but he did quite like the sound of “football.” Now Professor Corden was teaching them about something called Spotify. He wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest –

“-So just imagine the entire collection of Muggle music to ever be produced on one platform. Except Taylor Swift, but she’ll come ‘round eventually.”

Who is Taylor Swift? Come off it, Louis didn’t fucking care, but Muggle music… he was at attention.

“It takes away the need for any ownership. The Muggle basically enters an agreement with the service that says I’m going to pay to be able to listen to all of this music, but none of it is really mine. This says a lot about the transition that Muggle culture is experiencing not only from physically purchasing music to digital, but within the digital world itself to streaming, and what that says about how ownership is getting redefined…”

…and Louis zoned out again. He thought that they would actually get to listen to some music, but whenever Corden got all metacognitive about the muggle condition he always found it best to take a mental break. He was most of the way finished with an epic drawing of him battling a lion when a song filtered into his consciousness, and Louis found himself humming the melody. He jerked alert, not knowing how the hell the tune was familiar. The toad! The fucking toad! This was one of the songs he’d been serenaded with. His suitor _had_ to be Muggle born, he was certain of it. His fire to discover their identity was heartily renewed. Louis returned to his lion with vigor, but his ears stayed slightly perked all the same.

_My lover’s got humor…_

***

His own Transfiguration class was by Ravenclaw Tower, and twice a week he got his arse up, with little resistance to his own credit, to attend the seven A.M. lecture. Almost no one in the Slytherin dungeons was ever awake, least of all Zayn, who usually accompanied him to breakfast, so he took his time walking over to class and enjoying the silence in the castle. Louis was a secret morning person, in reality, and he treasured these walks.

Which was why he damn near shit himself when the song started.

 _Every day do you notice that we're never free_  
_Why can't you be happy with me?_  
_Every day we are running, though we're not trapped in the sea_  
_Oh, why can't you be happy with me?_

The toad jumped out of sight and Louis died quietly alone in the morning hours. When his heart _finally_ quit racing and he made it to class, the gravity of the lyrics hit him. Who was he not noticing? He’d gotten pretty frequent visits from the bastard toad and he still hadn’t an inkling of who was sending him.

What was Louis missing? Or, better said, who?

***

He was in his Arithmancy class when he got the news. The Professor was going on about some newly translated rune when Fizzy, with Professor Corden in hot pursuit, sprinted into the class in a beeline for Louis. She was shouting incoherently, he only made out the words practice, fall – was she crying, Merlin, what was going on?

Once Fizzy reached him she threw her arms around his neck and clung. He held her close, looking up quizzically at Corden while the rest of the students – and Professor – gaped at him and his sister.

“It’s Charlotte,” he told Louis. “She’s been hurt at practice. They’ve brought her from the pitch up to Madam Pomfrey’s but I think it’s best you join her. I grabbed Felicite here from Defense Against the Dark Arts before coming to get you – thought it was best you lot stay together now.”

Louis numbly nodded a thank you to Professor Corden and rose, hoisting Fizzy up into his arms, and walked straight out of the classroom. Classes, belongings, singing toad woes; everything was forgotten. He had to get to Lottie. Fizzy was still crying, and he wasn’t far from joining her.

He awkwardly ran as fast as he could to the hospital wing with a small girl in tow, but still made it in only a few minutes. The staircases seemed to have heard what happened and were being strangely cooperative.

Louis, Fizzy, and an out of breath Professor Corden barged into the Hospital Wing with an utter disregard for the quiet atmosphere Madam Pomfrey tried so hard to maintain. She instantly rushed out to meet them from behind one of the curtains sectioning off a bed, hands out, ready to placate the temper Louis was known to exhibit when necessary.

“She’s fine,” Madam Pomfrey gritted out. “One of the chasers wasn’t paying attention and knocked her off her broom –“ at that, a girl in his year perked up, looking extremely pained, Jesy her name was, “- but it’s nothing I can’t fix.”

Everyone there – Tomlinsons, Professors, and the whole Slytherin team – collectively breathed a sigh of relief, only to Madam Pomfrey warning, “I said fix, not fix quickly. She won’t be able to play in the last match.”

At that was an outpouring of complaints and indignant cries, but Louis, looking down at his still unconscious sister, knew it was right. He could see the movement of growing bones all down her side even through the dressing gown. Louis almost felt like he could get sick until he remembered he was only witnessing it; Lottie was the one who had to experience it. He needed to stay strong for her when she awoke, and Fizzy in the meantime. He was just thankful that Madam Pomfrey had come up with a draught that let her sleep through it all.

Louis registered that there was heated conversation going on all around him and tuned in.

“We have to withdraw! Lottie’s our seeker, we aren’t a team without her!” said Ashton from his transfiguration class.

“Are you kidding me? This is our final match of the year, and against Gryffindor no less!” retaliated a girl called Leigh-Anne, their chaser and one of Zayn’s mates. “We’ll find someone else who can fill in, but we can’t pull out now. It’s what Lottie would’ve wanted!”

The rest of the team started to chime in, aligning with one of the two sides. Jesy stayed sitting, still looking ill. Louis, for his sister and the team that loved her so much, knew there was only one thing to do.

“I’ll play.”

They fell silent and turned to look at him.

“You play, Tommo?” Leigh-Anne was the first to speak.

“Taught this one how to,” he answered, and squeezed Lottie’s hand with one of his own, Fizzy’s with the other. He could’ve sworn he saw Madam Pomfrey wipe away a tear.

The Slytherin players all exchanged looks and came to an easy decision. “You’re on, Lou. Welcome to the team.”

***

“Lovely day, Hogwarts! Beautiful weather, great spirits, and what a better way to finish off the term than with a Quidditch match between our favorite rival houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor. Promises to be an interesting game today, not often we see changes in players so late in the season, hardly any season left, innit. All the more pressure on new seeker Louis Tomlinson, seventh year, to perform during this one chance of his today. Let’s hope it’s not utter rubbish!”

Louis maybe saw why Harry and Niall may or may not have sent a rabbit after Nick Grimshaw.

“And the players are out on the field! Slytherin Captain Leigh-Anne Pinnock now shaking hands with Gryffindor beater Liam Payne, the teams are lined up, and they’re off!”

Louis hesitated slightly before he kicked off with his broom, to gauge the flight patterns of the Gryffindor team. He’d had a few practices with the Slytherins and was more or less used to each player’s moves and quirks, and he only had a few seconds to judge where to fly first. The other seeker, a girl called Perrie, was circling the stands from high up above, simply looking, not involved in the gameplay at all. Louis resolved to change that.

He darted up into the air with clear intent. Within seconds, Louis was tailing Perrie, close enough to reach out and grab her broom. She didn’t notice at first, but quickly caught on and tried to lose him. It didn’t work. Louis was on her, and directing her every move. His own secret tactic was ignoring the snitch for a bit to rattle the opposing team. He sensed that it might not be such a challenge.

“What’s Tomlinson…? Is he chasing Perrie Edwards? He’s literally chasing her, I don’t even know what to say about this, and you all know how significant that is for me. I’m Nick Grimshaw, I have something to say about everything. Right, Hemmings of Gryffindor tosses the quaffle to Devine, who throws it towards the Slytherin goal, and… Edwards flies directly into the quaffle, narrowly avoiding falling off her broom, that was some impressive maneuvering on her part.”

"Ooh, bit of faulty flight there by Tomlinson, he’s laughing too hard at his own antics to fly in a simple straight line. You know, he's only in because his sister, our beloved Slytherin Sweetheart Miss Charlotte Tomlinson is out for the season, a right nasty injury even Madam Pomfrey couldn't tackle - I’ve been informed by Madam Pomfrey’s shrieks that she could, in fact tackle it, my apologies Madam. Right, game, sorry professor. In my honest opinion from year of expertise commentating this beloved sport, not the player his sister is, by far, and not the fittest of the clan, either. _ALRIGHT,_ professor!”

If that Grimshaw prick didn't stop with his digs, Louis would have no choice but to fly right into the fucking stand he's in, so help him.

“Nelson with the quaffle dodges a bludger hit at her by Gryffindor beater Harry Styles, her and fourth year Ellie Goulding are very nimbly tossing the quaffle between them. Slytherin beaters Pinnock and Malik seem to have taken over Tomlinson’s role of harassing Edwards, who are now looping around her in figure eights, giving Tommo there the chance to actually do his job and look for the snitch. I _AM_ being impartial, Professor! Tomlinson, flying in intricate patterns below the other players, waiting for that little golden rascal… wait! He’s seen it!”

Louis sincerely hoped that he’d have a chance to punch Grimshaw after he caught the bloody thing, giving him away, what the fuck. He propelled himself forward as fast as his Nimbus would allow, pushing how much he should probably accelerate but figuring nothing worse could happen than what had to Lottie, and there was a cure for that. The only problem now was that Harry Styles was almost caught up to him. How Louis hadn’t known that the kid could fly like that was a mystery he’d figure out at a later date. Right now he had to make sure that the cheeky bastard didn’t cost him a win for his sister.

The two of them flew sharply upwards, following the movement of the snitch. Louis made eye contact with Harry for the briefest of moments before their brooms flew in opposite directions, Harry’s away from the snitch, and saw a strange combination of resolve mixed with slight guilt. Harry took the bludger in his hand - the one within easy target of Louis - and batted it in entirely the opposite direction, flying off in a spiral down towards the grounds. Louis caught the snitch.

***

The last time it happened, Louis had just realized that he'd left a book in the Transfiguration classroom, and retraced his steps back down the hallway to retrieve it. He was just about to pass through the doorway when he heard something that brought him to a halt.

Muggle music.

The only other times he had ever heard Muggle music within the Hogwarts grounds, or in his life, really, were when he was being serenaded by that blasted toad. They'd _just_ talked about this in Muggle Studies, too; Professor Corden had told them it was impossible to get a player to work in the castle. It had to be the toad. Louis was beside himself with the anticipation of finally figuring out who was behind it all.

He thought he actually knew this song, too. It must have been one of the ones they listened to in class. It sounded like that Hozier bloke. For what it's worth, Louis doesn't know how he _can't_ be magical, with that talent, but alas.

 _I will not ask you where you came from_  
_I will not ask and neither should you_  
_Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips_  
_We should just kiss like real people do_

He, finally, confidently entered the room, ready to confront his secret serenader, only to be stopped, astonished, for the second time in so many minutes.

Harry Styles. Harry fucking Styles.

Harry looked bashful, face a little flushed, but he didn’t lose eye contact with Louis. It was almost defiant. Louis was a little aroused. Harry gathered up his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Before he went anywhere, he started, "You know, I'm rubbish at Transfiguration, but I'm quite good with magical creatures and charms." He picked up the toad and left without another word.

Louis, stuck in the doorway, hardly had time to react when Harry squeezed past him and their arms brushed. (Unbeknownst to Louis or Harry, the toad looked back at Louis, shaking his head. He'd been rooting for them, the idiots.)

For what it was worth, Louis did feel like an idiot. He's got a crush on one of the bloody fifth years - on Harry Styles of all people.

Fuck it.

Louis sprinted out into the hallway, forgotten book be damned, and caught up with Harry, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder. He turned Harry to face him, unattractively out of breath just like his first class, and kissed him. Harry, thank Merlin, kissed him back, and didn’t stop, despite catcalls from Niall and the romantic soundtrack provided by his toad. Louis had hardly had any time to cause a fuss all semester, so he revelled in it. He was graduating. He could go out with a bang.

(He did. He banged Harry.)

***

Dear Mr. Styles,

On behalf of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, I would like to congratulate you with your completion of the Ordinary Wizarding Levels. This is an exciting time for rising sixth years such as yourself, and we wish you well with your results. Enclosed you will find the results of your examinations. Should you have any questions or concerns, simply send them back with the owl with which this communique arrived. He will know what to do.

All the best,

Griselda Marchbanks

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Passing Grades

| 

Failing Grades  
  
---|---  
  
_(O) Outstanding_

| 

_(P) Poor_  
  
_(E) Exceeds Expectations_

| 

_(D) Dreadful_  
  
_Acceptable_

| 

_(T) Troll_  
  
 

_Harry Edward Styles has achieved:_

Arithmancy

| 

A  
  
---|---  
  
Astronomy

| 

A  
  
Care of Magical Creatures

| 

O  
  
Charms

| 

O  
  
Defense Against the Dark Arts

| 

A  
  
History of Magic

| 

E  
  
Muggle Studies

| 

O  
  
Potions

| 

A  
  
Transfiguation

| 

A  
  
 

***

_Summertime_

“So this is your….Gmail?”

Harry grinned up at him from where he was lying on his lap. Louis had come to Holmes Chapel for the first time over summer holiday, to see what living in the Muggle world was truly like. He even took a train in, and hadn’t shut up about it for the entire first day, not that it didn’t endear Harry to him even more. Once he’d settled, Harry had found himself explaining the most mundane aspects of his life to Louis, everything from the purpose of his salt shaker to how email works.

“Right Lou, that’s Gmail.”

“So you just click the Compose… alright got that…” Louis looked up from his careful attempt, stuck with inspiration, and asked, “Does Hogwarts have this? Is there somewhere I can Gmail to?”

Harry sighed. “You’re not supposed to know this.”

The expression on Louis’ face made it very clear what he thought of what he wasn’t supposed to know.

“There is one account you can access in the castle, but it’s only for emergencies with Muggle born children who need to get in contact with their parents. You really shouldn’t mess around with it.”

Louis seemed like he really, really wanted to mess around with it. “Harry. Haz. Hazza. Tell me it. What is it? Tell me. Tell me. Tell – “

“Okay!” Harry didn’t know how he ever thought he would win. They were talking about Louis, after all.

_To: castlecorrespondence@yahoo.com_

_From:_ [ _hstyles@gmail.com_ ](mailto:hstyles@gmail.com)

_Subject: he he he he_

Please show this to professor mcgonagall

Is this u ha ha ha xxxx lou

 

**Author's Note:**

> There we have it! There definitely exists another part to this from Harry's perspective (we don't see much of him because Louis is, as expected, a self-absorbed teenager) so if I ever get around to making it happen it'll be found here! I hope you enjoyed, prompter!
> 
> Songs mentioned in this fic:  
> Fall Out Boy - Fourth Of July  
> Hugh Grant - Don't Write Me Off  
> Holychild - Happy With Me  
> Hozier - Take Me To Church; Like Real People Do


End file.
